All I Want for Christmas is a Giant Snuffleupagus
by Soleya
Summary: J/S established. Fluff! It took a couple of days to get it on paper, but hey, it's not Epiphany yet.


"How are the roads out there?" Sam Carter aimed her words toward the cell phone sitting on the dressing table as she sponged foundation onto her face and wondered why relationships made her act so damned girly.

"Not bad. Not good, but not bad. For where we are," Cassie explained.

"The middle of nowhere, you mean."

There was a pause, because the younger woman wasn't happy about that, either, but marriage was compromise. "Yeah. It's gonna be in the teens tonight, so everything that melted today will freeze. Be careful."

"Good to know." All but the tiniest roads in DC had already dried out from the traffic. "We'll bring the car. It's got more weight to it. Assuming everything fits, of course."

"You didn't overdo it on the presents, did you? You did, didn't you?"

Sam swapped the foundation for blush. "Cassie, it's his first Christmas."

"And he won't remember it at all. He's ten months old."

"You made me a list!" Sam protested.

"Of _ideas_ ," Cassie pressed. "I told you you didn't have to buy all of it."

"It was a list," she answered flatly. Samantha Carter was not one to leave things half done. She clicked the blush closed and grabbed her eye shadow palette. "And speaking of lists, when Snuffleupagus makes him scream in terror, it's your fault and not mine. You made the list."

"Why would it would make him cry?" the younger woman asked.

"Cassandra."

The tone said it all, and she defended through the phone, "He's not afraid of _everything,_ you know."

"I know. Just… strangers laughing in restaurants. And singing. And grass. Rain. Loud noises."

There was a pause again. "Okay, fine. But he already has Big Bird, and he loves it."

How had Sam missed that? "He has a two foot tall Big Bird?"

" _What_?"

"Cassie, this Snuffleupagus is two feet tall."

The phone was silent.

"It said it right in the title," Sam told her, grabbing her earrings. "Twenty-eight inch Snuffleupagus plush doll. That's two and a half feet."

The silence stretched long before her adopted niece said, "Well… he'll like the box."

"Great. I'm so glad I spent thirty-five bucks on a cardboard box."

"Yeah."

"Frankly, I feel like I could've gotten a better box for that kind of money."

Cassie chuckled. "Well, I'd feel bad, but considering you make twice what I do, I'm not going to feel _too_ bad. Is it from Uncle Jack, too?"

The man in question stepped into the doorway behind her – his timing had always been perfect – and Sam offered him a smile in the mirror. "Of course."

"Yeah, then I really don't feel bad about thirty bucks."

Jack moved behind her, his hands warm on her waist as he tilted his chin over his shoulder to press his cheek against hers. To the phone, he said, "What am I wasting thirty bucks on?"

"A giant Snuffleupagus," the phone answered.

"A box big enough for the baby to play in," the woman in his arms said.

"Ah. Well." His words and gaze were still aimed at the phone on the dresser. "Considering how much I just spent for a box so small the baby could hold it in one hand, I don't suppose I have much basis to complain. And your aunt certainly doesn't."

Sam's neck craned to look at him, though he didn't look back. "You did?"

"I did."

"Oh, boy," Cassie muttered.

"Where is it?" Immediately, she kicked herself for asking that question. She barely wore jewelry… except with him. Relationships made her _so girly_.

"Under the tree where it belongs," he told her. "No matter how much you bat those blue eyes."

"If you two are gonna have sex, I'm hanging up now," the younger woman complained.

With a laugh, Sam said, "We don't have time for that. We have dinner reservations. What time tomorrow?"

"Food at two. Get here around one. _Do not ring the doorbell_ ; the baby will be napping."

"Got it. See you tomorrow."

"Safe travels," Cassie wished them.

"Night," Jack told her. They didn't have to hang up the phone; a beep sounded as Cassie disconnected. Pressing his lips to the bare skin inside the wide neckline of Sam's dress, he said, "You look incredible. Whaddaya say we skip dinner and you can see _my_ giant Snuffleupagus?"

Turning in his arms, she suggested cheekily, "How about you show me what's in that itty bitty box?"

Giving her what she wanted was almost guaranteed to get Jack what _he_ wanted, and he knew it. But there was nothing he loved more than watching the wheels in her head turn, so he wasn't ready to satisfy her curiosity just yet.

Besides, it wasn't Christmas yet. "Or I could just take you to dinner," he offered.

"Deal." Her smile, after she kissed him, was beautifully wide.

As she headed for the door, he asked, "You sure I can't change your mind about the Snuffleupagus?"

Laughing, she walked away.


End file.
